Claimed

22. Discipline

Chapter twenty-two

Discipline

I had slapped a man who was known for his ruthlessness—a man who held the power of life and death in his hands every fucking day.

And now, that power was focused entirely on me.

What would happen next?

Would this be the last day of my life?

His face twisted in rage. “So that’s how it is going to be, Princess?”

I steadied my voice to apologize, but before I could speak, Gianni grabbed me with a speed that left me breathless.

His hands were iron clamps around my waist.

Without a word, he lifted me off the ground as if I weighed nothing, slung me over his damn shoulder, and started carrying me out of the garden.

Panic surged through me, and I screamed, trying to get away, but his grip was unyielding.

“Gianni! Stop! Let me go!” I screamed, kicking my legs and thrashing in his hold, but he didn’t respond.

My heart pounded wildly in my chest.

Fear and regret mingled in my veins as I struggled against him.

“Please! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to—” My apologies were cut off by the forceful swing of the castle doors as Gianni kicked them open, not even slowing down as he stormed through the grand entrance hall.

Oh my God. Oh my God.

The staff, who had greeted me so warmly just moments ago, scattered at the sight of us.

I did my best to get out of his hold again and still could not.

“Such a naughty princess, always testing Daddy’s patience.” He slapped my ass.

I shrieked.

“Let’s see if you can handle what’s coming.”

I widened my eyes. “What the fuck does that mean, Gianni?”

Soon, he carried me up the stairs, moving with impressive speed.

Terror shook through me.

My heart was in my fucking throat.

“Please!” I continued to struggle, trying desperately to escape his grip. “Gianni, please! I’m sorry! Let me go!”

He remained silent and pushed forward. His breath came in harsh, controlled bursts.

We got to the second level.

The walls of the castle blurred around us, and we sped through corridor after corridor.

His pace was relentless.

My fear grew with every step.

What is he going to do?

I hit at his back several times.

He just grunted.

Finally, he reached a door at the end of a long hallway. Without pausing, he kicked it open with a force that sent it crashing against the wall.

Shit!!

He stormed into the room, and before I could even take in the large bedroom’s surroundings, he dropped me onto the bed with a force that knocked the breath out of me.

I gasped.

Fast, Gianni turned back and slammed the door shut with a resounding thud.

The sound echoed in the room, final and absolute, trapping me inside with him.

My heart raced.

Trembling the whole time, I scrambled to sit up. “Listen—”

“No. You listen!” Undoing his skull belt, he prowled over to the bed and got on it. Those green eyes were so dark with this raging intensity my blood ran cold. “Never. Ever. Slap me in front of our people.”

I widened my eyes.

“Never!”

I trembled some more. “O-okay.”

“Take me in the office or in our bedroom here and slap me, but never out in the open for everyone to see.”

I blinked. “What?”

“You didn’t hear me?”

“I did. I just shouldn’t slap you period—”

“No. You don’t have my power or strength. You’re no bully. You may need some form of an outlet to get my attention—”

“I-I’m not slapping you.”

“How else will you tell me when I’m going too far?”

“B-by saying it.”

He pulled the belt from his waist with a sharp, deliberate motion, the leather slipping through the loops with a hiss. The skull buckle swung back and forth.

I widened my eyes. “Y-you’re not whipping me.”

“You’re right. I’m not.” He held the belt in his hands.

“Then, what are you going to do with it?” A cold sweat broke out on my skin.

“Discipline you.”

“Now you’re taking the Daddy play too far—”

“Am I?”

“Yes.”

“But you were a bad girl. How else will I make sure you end up being a good girl?”

I shivered. “I swear I won’t hit you again in front of everyone—”

“I believe you, but that is not enough, Princess.”

“You said you would kill my friend—”

“And I meant it.”

My hand itched to slap him again.

He glanced at my fingers as if knowing their intentions too. “You don’t like when I threaten your friends?”

“No. I fucking don’t. And I damn sure don’t like when you think you can take ballet away from me—”

“I’m not taking it away. I’m just changing the location—”

“I will still dance in the ballet—”

“You will not.” Gianni lunged at me.

My instincts screamed at me to run, to get off the bed, to do anything to avoid whatever was coming. But as I scrambled back, trying to slip off the edge of the bed, his hand shot out like a viper striking its prey.

“No!” I gasped, twisting my body to the side in a desperate attempt to dodge him. My heart pounded so violently that it drowned out all other sounds, except for the blood rushing in my ears.

Gianni was so damned fast.

His fingers clamped around my wrist.

I kicked at his leg.

He blocked it with his arm and yanked me back onto the bed with a force that left me breathless.

The silk bedding rustled beneath us.

More panic surged through me.

“Get off me!” I thrashed in his hold, kicking out wildly, but he was a mountain of muscle, and I was nothing more than a leaf in a fucking storm.

“Gianni, stop!” My voice cracked as I fought against him.

In one swift motion, he raised my arms over my head.

Soon, the cold leather of his belt wrapped around my wrists.

I gasped, the realization of what he was doing sending a fresh wave of fear through me.

“No, no, no—please!” I wriggled from side to side as that belt tightened, pinning my wrists together with a final, secure tug.

Gianni didn’t stop there.

Next, he looped the other end of the belt around one of the ornate ivory spokes of the grand king-sized bed. The belt stretched taut, further pulling my arms above my head and tethering me in place.

I tugged against the restraint and the leather bit into my skin.

I could not move my hands.

Gianni now had me bound, helpless, and at his mercy.

Panting, I looked up at him. “Gianni, please. . .”

The bed dipped under his weight as he loomed over me.

His voice grew low and dangerous. “You think you can just slap me in front of everyone and there won’t be consequences?”

“I’m sorry, Gianni, but this is crazy. Let me go.”

“After you’re disciplined.”

“I am not a child!”

“Correct.” His gaze slipped down my body. “You are not.”

“W-what the hell are you going to do? What kind of husband disciplines his wife?!”

“This moment isn’t about punishment, Princess. This is about control. You’re mine. And I need you to understand that.” With that, he leaned back, his eyes never leaving mine as he reached for the buttons on his shirt, slowly undoing them one by one.

What the hell? Is he getting naked?

Every click of a button being undone delivered a large serving of vulnerability my way.

“Gianni. . .”

His shirt parted, revealing all that tattooed chiseled muscle.

Unfortunately, not only did fear hit me, but desire too.

Once he took his shirt off, he slung it to the floor. And the whole time, he continued to watch me with that raging intensity.

I swallowed. “This is. . .unnecessary.”

His hands went to his pants, and he unbuttoned them.

Shit. What is he going to do?